


A Chance Encounter

by Anonymous



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Blindfolds, Bondage, Dalaran, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Hunter Class Storyline, Light BDSM, Original Characters - Freeform, Pining, Porn With Plot, Romance, Social Anxiety, Strap-Ons, The Unseen Path
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 07:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12907026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Huntmaster Aldri Summersky has never been good at diplomacy, especially with the mages of the Kirin Tor. After being sent by Emmarel Shadewarden of the Unseen Path to discuss plans for the campaign against the Legion, Aldri heads to Windrunner Retreat's finest tavern: the Filthy Animal. There, she hopes to settle down for the night, eager to head back to Trueshot Lodge, away from the noise and business of Dalaran.Everything changes when the barmaid places a flagon of ale before her, courtesy of the cute elf sitting by the hearth.





	A Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> This story is pretty shameless. It's based on a completely random encounter I had before logging off for the night. I noticed this other elf was checking out my hunter, probably checking out her TRP3 profile, and then she winked and rode off on her mount. Well, my hunter's kind of a socially awkward mess, and had this been an actual RP encounter, she would have been a stammering, blushing mess because "Wow, a cute woman wants to talk to me?? I haven't cleaned my armor in weeks!" So I decided to run with it as an actual story. Like I said, it's pretty shameless. Names have been changed of course.
> 
> I haven't written much for WoW, let alone this kind of explicit smut in awhile. So I apologize if it's weird.

Aldri Summersky has never quite enjoyed the city of Dalaran, no matter where the mages of the Kirin Tor move it. Busy streets, stuck-up business folk, and too clean streets all contribute to making her feel suffocated. Throw her back out into the woods of Highmountain and she'll be just fine. Drop her on the Broken Shore, for goodness sake, and she'll manage. Amongst the denizens of Dalaran? If someone turns their nose at her one more time...

There's little choice in the matter, however. As the representative of the Unseen Path, she has to be here to help with the war effort against the Legion. Emmarel Shadewarden, coordinator of the organization’s rebirth, made a huge mistake sending her here, let alone sugfesting she serve as Huntmaster. No amount of positive encouragement the kind Night Elf gave could have prepared her for this city. It didn't help that she's doing this because Emmarel’s attractive. Aldri's fate was sealed when she smiled when she eventually agreed to travel to Dalaran.

Thankfully the meetings with the Kirin Tor leaders and Archmage Khadgar are finished. Aldri tried her best, but people skills have never been her strong suit. Doesn't matter if she was born in Quel'Thalas to upper class parents who held high ranks among the Farstriders. Aldri never had a knack for dealing with people. Among the mages, she played what part she could, which meant cleaning her armor, scrubbing her hair, and generally making something of herself. She talked softly, behaved politely, and tried to keep her more... primal instincts to herself. That meant no growling at others or bringing up less pleasant anecdotes about her otherwise hermetic life.

Maybe Emmarel will be pleased enough to smile her way again upon hearing the good news about her trip to Dalaran. Not only will the Unseen Path help the mages of Dalaran fight the Legion, they will in turn provide medical supplies and resources to help supplement the Trueshot Lodge to get it up and running again.

Aldri yawns, tired after her long day of social interaction. The streets of Dalaran have grown quieter in the late evening. There's a party in the Purple Parlor, if she heard right, but she has no interest in social pleasantries. The sooner she can get back to Windrunner Retreat, the better. She misses her companions, a wolf named Butterscotch and a saberfang named Tabitha. Both of them had to be stabled in Highmountain. At least her animal friends never made her feel less than herself. At least they never judged her for her life choices. To Aldri, animals have a habit of always surpassing people when it comes to forming a relationship with her.

While rubbing her neck, Aldri looks ahead of her. Only a few more paces and then she can relax for the evening. Later on, she needs to pack up her belongings for tomorrow's flight back to the lodge. Luckily, she traveled light.

But first, dinner. There's probably only one good thing about Dalaran: the food. Aldri's never been a picky eater, always sufficing for subsistence hunting just to get by, but the city offers different meals. Rarely does she get the chance to indulge—it’s not something she’ll get used to, certainly, but it makes for a nice change of pace. The Filthy Animal tavern in Windrunner's Retreat has been a special pleasure.

Thankfully, it isn't too busy inside the tavern tonight. The orc innkeeper smiles at her, and Aldri awkwardly returns the gesture with a wave. Otherwise, folks keep to themselves and pay her no mind. She puts in an order of salad and an elk steak and then sits down at one of the long tables.

While she waits, Aldri refers to her self-made map of Highmountain again. Cartography has always been an interest of hers, and she offered to map out the terrain of the region for the Unseen Path. The tauren, thankfully, have been helpful. While they have their maps, Aldri's intent is different--track the movements of any and all Legion activity and make note of it.

"Here you go miss."

A mug slams onto the table beside the vellum of her map, causing liquid to slosh over the rim. Aldri tilts her head in confusion and raises a brow. A quick sniff causes her nose to wrinkle.

"I did not order ale," Aldri tells the tauren barmaid.

"Yes, I know dear. It's courtesy of the elf near the hearth."

All thoughts screech to a halt. Aldri's confusion amplifies. Her head swivels fast, following the barmaid's gaze, and her focus lands on a fellow Blood Elf woman seated by the hearth who's reading a scroll. As if sensing Aldri's gaze--or perhaps overhearing the conversation--she looks up and winks with a sly grin.

Suddenly the room's several hundred degrees warmer, like she's back in the depths of Molten Core. Aldri swallows, thickly.

"Shall I return the favor on your behalf?"

Aldri glances back to the barmaid. She shrugs and then looks back to the woman, who has now returned to her scroll, innocently enough. She doesn’t know the protocol on this, if there even is one.

"Uh... I mean, I guess?"

The next ten minutes become far too tense for Aldri, who spends each second agonizing over what the gesture meant, what hers might mean in turn, and wrestling with her own doubt.

Does the woman know her somehow? Have they met? Is she a fellow hunter? Perhaps she's from the Unseen Path too, and she’s just extending a friendly greeting.

What if she's not, and she's a stranger? Why would a stranger gift her a flagon of ale? Aldri has kept to herself, focusing on her mapmaking. There’s nothing remarkable about her.

What if it's a friendlier gesture? She spends half of her focus peering from the corner of her eyes, doing what little reconaissance she can to pick up on whatever details she can.

Tall elf, tanned skin, with glowing green eyes and hair as dark as the night sky. The woman has a slender, lithe body built for dancing encased in leather, it appears. The colors of the fire make her skin glow, and the play of shadows causes Aldri's eyes to fall upon the soft valley of her exposed cleavage.

There's no questioning the fact that the other elf woman's attractive. Softer looking, certainly, in comparison to Aldri. Regardless, a flagon of ale from one elf to another doesn't mean anything. Right? Unless... unless returning the gesture means...

Aldri watches, her heart thudding painfully in her chest, as the barmaid delivers the second flagon of ale to the other woman, who seems all too delighted. Worse yet, she looks across the dining hall and catches Aldri staring. Even more damning, the woman collects her belongings, shoving them into a small satchel, and starts to walk over, mug in hand.

There's something about the way the other elf walks that prevents Aldri from looking away. Hips swaying in exaggeration, lips pursed in a sultry pout, eyes brightening with delight. Aldri realizes quickly that she's royally fucked.

"Do you mind if I join you?" The woman asks, her voice like birdsong.

"No." Aldri blinks and then adds, "I mean yes of course.” Stammering has never helped anyone. She groans in exasperation and runs a hand over her face. “What I am _trying_ to say is I don't mind. It's a public tavern, of course you can sit there."

The woman chuckles and sits down right next to her, not across from her. She places her worn satchel at her other side. Then, she leans forward against the table in such a way that almost seems to push her breasts forward. There’s a terribly coy pout upon her face.

"You haven't had any of your drink, yet."

"Uh, I mean, I haven't, I mean I don't..." Aldri breaks into a nervous sweat. Suddenly the meetings with the mages seem tame in comparison. "I, uh, don't have my food yet."

"You seem awfully tense. City life that much of a bore?"

"No! No, not at all--"

"I understand, no need to worry. Not a fan of big cities either. You're an archer, aren't you?"

"Yes...?"

The woman laughs, her brows quirking in amusement, and shakes her head. "You sound uncertain about that."

Aldri frowns, embarrassed beyond belief. "Yes, I am an archer."

"I don't blame you. Stereotypically speaking, I imagine you prefer the great outdoors. You hunter types always seem to treat the wilderness like a lover you can’t wait to get back to."

"Sure, yeah. If you want to put it that way." Aldri scratches her neck. "I... I'm sorry to ask this, but do I know you?"

"There's no need to apologize. No, we don't know each other. We've never met, not formally at least." Before Aldri can respond, the woman smiles pleasantly. "I actually saw you by the bank and watched you for a little while. I suppose that sounds rather odd."

_Watching me?_ Aldri's brows purse.

"I have a room here, too. I'm a representative of the Pandaren monks. I saw you earlier, before our passing at the bank. I also had some meetings with the Kirin Tor. My name is Nelra."

"Aldri Summersky, of the uh, the Unseen Path."

"I saw you enter the tavern and sit down. You looked rather focused on your project, but like I said, far too tense."

Nelra takes a long drink, and to Aldri's shock, she finishes the whole flagon of ale.

"Truthfully, I wasn't quite sure what you'd think, Aldri Summersky, about my little gift and my wink." Her voice lowers, becoming as smooth as silk. "I especially didn't think you would return the gesture."

Aldri feels a shiver run down her spine.

"I was just, y'know, trying to be polite."

Nelra snickers. "Only polite?" She leans closer, so close Aldri can feel hot breath near her ear. "There's no need to be shy. I saw you stealing glances."

A lump forms in Aldri's throat, hard as stone. Her eyes widen and she blushes at the revelation. She can track mighty beasts for miles without being seen or heard but watching another person subtly? Nope.

"I would rather you tell me if I'm being too forward."

"I... I don't think you're being forward, to be honest." Aldri scratches her neck and looks at Nelra briefly. Now that the truth is out there, there’s no sense denying it. “I'm sorry. People aren't my strong suit, but, uhm, I think you're really pretty."

Nelra grins impishly. She moves closer, pressing her chest against Aldri's arm. One hand slips lower, beneath the cover of the table, to touch Aldri's armored inner thigh, where the plating is thinner.

Heat burns throughout her body, and something aches deep inside her. She hasn't felt this in a long damn time. So long, she almost forgot what it felt like. When was the last time she ever felt like this? Back when her and her friend Shinko Shadespear, a troll from the Echo Isles and a fellow hunter, were something of partners. That was over five years ago, during the Northrend campaign, when he and her decided to work out stress together. They ended it amicably, and there’s been no one since. She's been crushing hardcore on Emmarel, yes, but that's one thing. This, however... is a different kind of beast.

"If I may be so bold, Aldri Summersky..."

_Damn, the way she says my name._

"...I would like to invite you upstairs and help you relax. We monks are quite flexible."

Aldri sucks in a sharp breath. She closes her eyes and imagines it for but a moment. A tangle of legs, warm bodies pressed against one another, fingers wandering across the softness of flesh... Her legs shift uncomfortably. Aldri feels hard pressed to say no, not when her body has grown worked up over the mere thought. She doesn’t even know this woman. It’s as close to anonymous sex as she’s ever been. What would Shinko think, if he saw her now? Fretting over basic flirtation. No, he’d tell her to relax, to have a good time, and give a new experience a chance.

"Alright," she says quietly, wringing her hands together. “If you're sure. Like I said," she shrugs, her shoulders sagging, "I'm not the best with people, so, uh... it's been..."

_Don't say five years. Don't tell her how long it's really been._

"...about ten years." Aldri panics as soon as the words slip out. She holds up a hand and stammers, "I mean five. It's been five years, seriously, only five. Not ten. Five."

"It's alright, dear. I believe you." Nelra pushes a strand of red hair behind Aldri's ear. "I'll try my best to make up for it. Do you prefer to top, bottom, or both?"

Aldri turns bright red. She bites her lip and then laughs sheepishly. "Uh... Pardon?"

"You know, are you a dominant sort of lover, or do you prefer to be more submissive?"

Aldri freezes. Back when it was her and Shinko, the things he’d do to her... the way his voice commanded her, controlled her. If there was ever anything truly amazing about him, it was how she could relinquish herself to him. So sure, she was pretty submissive, but she can’t admit that, not with a stranger.

"It's really, uh, whatever you prefer."

"That's kind of you, but I suppose I'll be frank. I can be rather dominant. Is that fine with you?"

_Yes. Gods yes._

Aldri swallows thickly.

"Perhaps I should rephrase. I intend to make you melt into my bed sheets, make you scream my name until you never forget it." The hand on Aldri's thigh begins to rub assertively. "Maybe I'll even make the lonesome hunter beg for it. Maybe I'll even demand you call me mistress."

Aldri shudders. If that hand gets any higher up her thigh, she might just explode into a million tiny particles right here.

"Y-Yes."

Aldri runs a hand over her face. She glances to Nelra in complete shock. Can this really be happening? Perhaps she's too easy to read, for Nelra's smirk softens.

"Yes, dear, I mean it. I'm serious. This is really happening, if you're okay with this."

"Yeah, I am."

It's the most steadfast comment she's made all evening. Her aim is true; Nelra brightens like a star and leans closer one last time.

"If for whatever reason you change your mind, want me to stop or change something, I want you to say foxflower, okay?"

Aldri nods quickly. "Alright."

The orc innkeeper arrives at Aldri's table with a full meal that makes her stomach growl.

"Enjoy your dinner and then meet me upstairs, room three. No rush, but change out of your armor first. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Then it's a date."


End file.
